Donning the Hat
by Keeper of Storms
Summary: A man can be hunted, captured, and killed. But an idea, a concept, a legend, they can never die. They can only be forgotten.


Malcolm walked into his study, having hung up his coat in the hall. It had been a fairly eventful day, several meetings about current and future projects, not to mention the incessant hounding from Mr. Siko regarding the development of the new plant. Feeling rather nostalgic for no apparent reason as he sat down his eyes began to wonder across the room, pausing briefly on various items of differing degrees of importance. Towards the end of his reminiscing his eyes focused on his desk, a particular item in particular. On his desk sat an exquisite picture frame, intricate carvings surrounding a picture of himself and his wife along with their two children. The twins had turned 8 only a week earlier and had celebrated that fact by attempting to finally catch their father in one of their pranks. He had to admit, it had been a masterful plan, the only reason it hadn't succeeded was that he had been prepared for such an attempt all day and entered via the window rather than the door. After all, what sort of 8 year old expects their 44 year old father to be capable of entering his bedroom via a second story window? Malcolm chuckled, 10 years on and his grolly was just as effective as it had ever been; which brought his attention to the locked cabinet against the far wall. It was rather dark and foreboding, somehow managing to give the impression that it was attempting to sink into the shadows, disappearing out of sight and mind. But it was not the cabinet itself that drew his eyes and thoughts; rather, it was the hat that was on top.

At first glance the hat was nothing special. It possessed a very narrow brim that was sharply turned up at the back and a short crown, which was pinched in the front and indented into a teardrop shape in the centre. Upon closer inspection however, questions began to arise. For example, how was it that the hat itself was perfectly clean yet surrounded by dust, with the dust showing no signs of being disturbed? Or, there was the fact that if you were to look inside the hat, the label would indicate that the hat had been made by a company that had gone bankrupt approximately two decades prior. Yet the hat looked no more than a day or two old. 

Malcolm gazed upon the hat with no small degree of fondness and, dare he admit it, wistfulness. It had been twelve years since the Clanbronwyn Hotel incident. Ten years since he had taken off his hat and refused to put it on again. Ten years… Ten, long, years. His musings however were interrupted by Lisa calling for him. "Malcolm! There's someone here to see you. Something about a hat. No idea what he's on about but would you come down to talk to him?" Thanks to his current thought train Malcolm's mind snapped into gear. Dozens of theories going through his mind, ranging from that baseball cap that he had handed in to reception last week to a cultist wanting to sacrifice him to some idol. He quickly discarded all of them, there was no point theorising before he even met the man. As such, Malcolm quickly got up and walked downstairs, arriving just in time to hear the tail end of Jim's explanation as to why it couldn't possibly be his dad that he wanted to talk to. As Malcolm never wore a hat, and seemed to dislike the mere concept of wearing one.

The man smiled at Jim's rant before turning to face Malcolm as he came down the stairs. "Ah Mr. Smith, I would like to talk to about a rather special hat. A hat I believe you are familiar with… Ah! But where are my manners, here, my card." With that the man pulled what appeared to be a business card out of nowhere and handed it over.

On Malcolm's side of things alarm bells had started ringing before the stranger had finished the first sentence. Despite the fact that the man was standing right in front of him, Malcolm was unable to describe, almost as if his appearance wasn't actually set. The second the man had started speaking the hairs on the back of Mal's neck had gone up, his words were laced with an almost tangible power. Looking down at the card Mal quickly decided that any apprehension he may have felt about speaking to the person in front of was irrelevant. Note, he didn't decide that his feelings were wrong, merely that they had no affect on the current situation. After all, the card identified the man in front of him as Janus. Patron god of change and chaos. And you do NOT turn down a god because you don't feel too good about talking to it. As such, Malcolm buried all his feelings of apprehension and smothered the flight response "Ah, I see. Well, my study is this way so if you'd be so kind as to follow me. Lisa, would you mind bring us up some tea?" Lisa was quite obviously shocked at her husband's sudden hospitality, not to say he wasn't polite or anything, but the degree of deference he was currently showing this stranger was definitely out of the norm.

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><p>Malcolm watched as Lisa left the study, shutting the door behind her. He turned around to find Janus inspecting the hat. He was about to inquire as to the reason behind the interest in it when Janus beat him to the punch. "Incredible isn't it? Such an insignificant thing, yet a more powerful artefact I doubt you'd find. A mere hat, capable of sending demons running in terror and leaving wraiths cowering in fear." <em>That<em> got Malcolm's attention. Admittedly, by the time he'd resigned from the Ministry he had built quite the reputation in the supernatural realm, but the only wraith he had ever encountered was John Defoe. Last time he had nightmares about that, John was _not_ cowering in fear. Then, there was the description of his hat. His hat an artefact? Something told Malcolm this conversation was going to be rather interesting.

So, with that pluckiness that he had no use for for quite awhile, he took the plunge. "What do you mean?" Janus laughed. "You said it yourself Malcolm! A man can be hunted, a man can be caught, a man can be killed. But a legend? The creak on the stairs, the pick in your lock, the shadow on the wall. They are untouchable. Concepts. Stories. _Legends._ And Legends can never die, they can only be forgotten." Unbidden, a memory of a self-motivational speech made a decade and a half earlier sprang to mind. "That explains your interest in the hat, but what do you want with it?" Janus turned and looked at him for a moment before speaking. "I want to continue the legend." "What?" Malcolm's entire body was shocked frozen. His mind playing that last sentence over and over again like a scratched CD "_I want to continue the legend."_ It was with a herculean effort that he rebooted his mind to continue to listen. "Yes, your legend is used as nightmare stories for the demon world, yes, your legend keeps many an experienced detective awake at night, but your legend is _so much more_. You, are the mortal human who defied the will of Chzo and disrupted his plans. You, are the one who defied fate and prophecy to follow your own path. You, Malcolm Smith, are one of the very, very, few mortals around who have accepted your weakness and embraced it. The very thing that so many demons and ghosts and spirits mock you for, you have turned into your greatest strength. And THAT is why I want to continue your legend."

Janus appeared to have worked himself up a tad and took a couple of seconds to calm himself down. "In another world, rather different to this one, there is a young man who has the same potential. He defied Fate and Destiny simply because he was unwilling to let his friend die, in fact, he faced down a Master Vampire _on his own_ to do so. However, he lacks the confidence and self-esteem required to truly utilise this potential, due no doubt to a combination of horrendous parents and being surrounded by superhumans. The rulers of that world have gotten so caught up in their 'game' that they have forgotten that the pieces they are playing with are living, breathing, _feeling_ souls. An opportunity has arisen to correct both these things; give young Alexander the confidence to do what he believes is right, and restore the Earth back into its proper balance. A chaos mage, by the name Ethan Rayne is intending on casting a spell on Halloween and calling on my name to strengthen it. This spell will turn its targets into their costumes for the duration of the evening." Malcolm was a very intelligent man and quickly made the connection. "You want him to dress as me." Janus looked rather pleased with Malcolm's ability to keep up before continuing. "Exactly. I will, alter, the spell slightly so that the changes are slightly more permanent for him. Ensuring the survival of your legacy and throwing a good old monkey wrench into the plans of those manipulative old codgers."

Malcolm could find nothing wrong with the plan stated so far, however, there was one thing bothering him. "That is all well and good, but, I have to ask. Why ask me for permission? You could just take the hat and use it anyway with or without my agreement." "Oh I quite agree. Getting your agreement makes no difference to you or to me. However, it does make a difference to _magic_." Janus walked across the room and begun inspecting the painting that hung on the far wall. "You see, if I just take the hat then the spell will simply copy and paste you into him. If, however, you willingly give me the hat and permission to use it in the spell magic will see things rather differently. In fact, it will see it as you choosing your successor. I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure what will happen. Old magic such as this is always so difficult to predict."

Malcolm sat down in his chair before clasping his hands together and resting his chin on them. "Is he intelligent?" "Oh yes, if rather lacking in motivation." Malcolm pondered that for a moment before asking another question. "Is he willing to break the rules?" "Absolutely, if his pack is threatened he will do whatever it takes to protect them. Oh! Speaking of which, a primal Alpha Hyena spirit chose him as its vessel if it makes a difference." Mal raised his eyebrows at that, primal spirits were awfully picky about their possessions, to be the first choice of a Alpha pack animal at that was a very strong indication as to Alexander's character. Malcolm paused before asking one last question. "How does he feel about suits?" Janus seemed rather confused as to the reason behind this but answered none-the-less. "He doesn't. Seems to have a fascination with those ghastly Hawaiian Shirts." Janus shuddered "Horrible things, even by my standards." Malcolm was quiet for a moment before nodding, seemingly coming to a decision. "I'll do it. On one condition." "Oh?" "Fix his dress sense, if he is going to be my successor he needs to dress like it." Janus couldn't help but take a jab at that. "Oh, and the 1930's are _so_ in right now." Malcolm smirked "Exactly."

"So then, we have an arrangement?" Malcolm didn't respond, instead he got up from his desk and walked over to the cabinet taking the hat off the table. He weighed the hat in his hand for a moment before reaching for his grolly, and stopping himself before he actually picked it up. He seemed deep in thought for a moment before picking it up and walking over to Janus. Janus seemed rather surprised at this turn of events "You're giving him the grolly as well?" Mal nodded his head before replying, writing a note on a scrap of paper before slipping it into the hat. "Yes, I have a feeling he'll need it before the night is through, and besides, I can always make another one." The god smiled at that before taking the hat and grolly and waving good bye. "Well then, it's been a wonderful chat, do thank Lisa for the tea. I'm afraid I must be off, spells to alter, plots to make, chaos to cause. You know how it is. Goodbye Malcolm Smith, it has been both a pleasure and an honour meeting you in person." With that, Janus was gone. There was no smoke, no flash of light, although… _'… I'm sure that painting was in the hallway… Heh, guess he couldn't resist after all'_ With that, Malcolm left his study to join his wife and children. His once troubled conscience now quiet in the knowledge that his legend wasn't over yet. In fact, something told him it was only just beginning.

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><p>Alexander LaVelle Harris walked into Ethan Rayne's Costume shop with a sense of purpose. He had twenty dollars in his pocket and a costume to buy, nothing was going to stop him. Not comics, not Hawaiian shirts, not… Hey! Twinkies…. NO! Costume. Ethan spotted Alex immediately and, intent on following his patron's wishes, quickly approached him, grabbing the hat and umbrella from under the counter. "Hello there. You appear to be just right for a particular costume I have out back. Would you like to take a look? It's a personal project of mine so if you like it I'd be more than happy to let you have it free."<p>

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><p>Spike was busy preparing for the night's festivities in response to Drusilla's prediction when she suddenly spoke. "Spike!" Quickly yelling at one of his minions to get on with it, he turned and faced his sire "Yes luv?" "Miss Edith says that even demons have nightmares." Spike raised an eyebrow, even for Dru this was a little vague. Nonetheless Spike humoured her, after all, there was nothing to lose and everything to gain. "And what do demons have nightmares about luv?" "Hats." Drusilla stated emphatically. Spikes response on the other hand was a little bit incredulous. "Hats? Demons have nightmares about… hats?" Dru nodded cheerfully "Walking and talking hats. Demons run and wraiths cower before the walking talking hats. Watch out for hats tonight won't you Spike?" Spike was still trying to get his head around the concept of nightmares about <em>hats<em> but replied all the same. "Will do luv. I see any walking and talking hats and I'll run away like a scared pooch with my tail between my legs. That okay with you?" "Perfect!" With that, Drusilla went back to her cards, oblivious to the world once again.

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><p>Screams rang out as the street which was once happily filled with trick-or-treating children became filled with monsters and demons as the chaos spell took effect. One person however was not taking part in the general madness and was in fact coming to terms with the spell. His musings were interrupted however by a rather annoying lump that was sticking into the back of his head. "What the blazes?" Reaching up he removed his hat and quickly found the slip of paper stuck inside. Unfolding the note, he read the message within, the raising of his left eyebrow a quarter of an inch the only indication as to his reaction. Shaking his head, the figure folded the note back up and placed it into his back pocket. "Right then, first things first. Time to find some decent clothes." With that, the figure strolled off towards the nearest clothing store, hat perched on his head and umbrella slung over his shoulders.<p>

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><p>Spike and his entourage surrounded the helpless slayer and her friends. He was about to open his mouth to taunt them when a scream rang out and was quickly cut off from the back of his group. Alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind Spike turned his attention on the new arrival, who's presence was made known by the parting of the demonic horde as whisperings broke out. "Impossible! He's just a legend!" or "No way! He's supposed to be a myth!" were the main trains of thought among the demon rabble. As Spike watched, the figure walked past the horde and into the light. Instincts born from centuries of unlife quickly analysed the approaching figure. The figure looked like it belonged in the 30s. A grey suit with black shoes and matching shirt and tie were worn with a balaclava worn over the face and a grey hat was perched on its head. That last thought immediately set the alarm bells going full tilt, Drusilla's warning running through Spike's head. <em>"Even demons have nightmares." "About?" "Hats. Walking and Talking Hats." <em>Not one to lose control of himself in front of his minions however, Spike quickly marshalled up his bravo and snapped at the figure. "And just who the bloody hell are you?" The figure twirled his umbrella round before resting it on his shoulder. "The name's Trilby."

"Trilby the gentleman thief." 

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong> My apologies to those who have been reading Storm's Rising. I was cleaning up my harddrive over the weekend and came across the Chzo Mythos series. And I got distracted. Oops?

I did my best to avoid directly mentioning Trilby (The Hat or the thief) by name. At anyrate, hope you all enjoyed it :)


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